


an amazin revelation

by Laylah



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Amporacest, Ancestor Issues, Daddy Kink, Eridan's Dualscar Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:46:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1914969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What's it mean?" you ask. "Cause if you're askin me to call you the human empress or something, you can forget it."</p>
<p>Cronus chuckles. "Nah, bro, it ain't like that. Your daddy's like... Kinda like an Ancestor, you know? Older, genetically similar, all that. But instead of being, like, a distant legendary figure, he's right there with you. He takes care of you." He cups your face in one hand, brushes a thumb across your cheekbone, and it's not pale at all.</p>
<p>"That what you're offering?" you ask. "You gonna take care a me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	an amazin revelation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nevereatdirt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevereatdirt/gifts).



_here's an amazing revelation_   
_with a bit of stimulation_   
_i'd be a great sensation_   
_i'd be your inspiration_   
_daddy_   
_—Optimus Prime_

The date isn't awful. You were sort of expecting the worst—when you first met Cronus it was like looking in a culthouse mirror, all your worst parts wobbly and larger than life. But he sucks less as he gets it through his pan that you're a troll of your word and not going to ditch the first second his guard is down.

He takes you to dinner in some place out of his memories, a really nice arrestaurant suitable for someone of your station. You appreciate the gesture, enjoying jewel-bright little spirals of crunchy roe and thin flutes of a fizzy, delicately sweet drink that makes everything fuzzy around the edges. It's not hardcore drugs like Gamz went for, just... enough sugar to give you a little buzz.

You talk past each other, mostly. You don't give a sloppy eel shit about his music or human culture, and he has the bad taste to not care about military history. But whatever, he makes a pretty good listening face. It's nice to have somebody act like they care, no matter how bullshit it is. You haven't had anyone to talk to in so long. When he takes your hand as you wait for the last course to come out, you let him.

And when he asks you afterward if you want to go back to his place, you do approximately three seconds of soul-searching before you say, "Yeah, okay, sure."

Dream bubbles being what they are, you don't really travel there. Space just melts around you and reforms into a different memory-shape. You don't pay much attention to what his hive looks like. You're a little distracted by the part where he's right there in front of you, close up enough so you have to look up to meet his eyes. The three sweeps between you mean that he's taller, broader through the shoulders, a hell of a lot closer to full adult size. It looks good. You would have looked good, if you'd gotten to get that old.

Cronus kisses you, and it's your first proper flush kiss, which is pretty pitiful itself given that it comes after you're dead and from someone who got your same raw deal in another universe. But for once you don't have to lean on the self-pity so hard; for once you got someone to help you out. You fumble at first, getting the hang of the kiss, but he doesn't laugh, and he doesn't stop. One of his arms goes around your waist, and his other hand comes up to thread into your hair, and it's. It's nice.

When he tries nibbling on your fins, it's more than nice. You maybe catch your claws in the back of his thin white shirt ( _white_ , fuck, the globes it would take to wear white back home) and whine, just a little, barely a noise. He shivers hard and growls back, low and needy so you can feel it vibrating in this thorax. You unclasp your cape and let it fall, tug awkwardly on your scarf for a second before you remember you can just wish it out of existence. The air feels sweet on your neck gills, and Cronus hums.

"Can you do something for me, babe?" he asks. That tone probably ought to put you on guard but honestly you know where this is going. There's no point in playing hard-to-get now.

You swallow. His lips brush your neck gills, feathery light. "Maybe," you say. "Depends what it is."

Cronus's tongue traces one gill edge and you shudder against him, the sensation washing over your skin. Only another seadweller would really know what they were doing there, what it feels like to be touched like that. "Can you call me Daddy?"

That's... weird. "What," you say, pulling back just far enough to be in conversation distance, "is that a human word or something?"

He grins like he's honestly pleased with you. Has anyone ever looked at you like that before? "Yeah," he says.

"What's it mean?" you ask. "Cause if you're askin me to call you the human empress or something, you can forget it."

Cronus chuckles. "Nah, bro, it ain't like that. Your daddy's like... Kinda like an Ancestor, you know? Older, genetically similar, all that. But instead of being, like, a distant legendary figure, he's right there with you. He takes care of you." He cups your face in one hand, brushes a thumb across your cheekbone, and it's not pale at all.

"That what you're offering?" you ask. "You gonna take care a me?" Fuck, that was supposed to sound challenging. Casual. Something like that. Instead you sound desperately, pathetically hopeful.

"Sure," he says, and then maybe he realizes that sounds too lukewarm: "Yeah. Lemme do that for you."

"Okay," you say. "You act like it, I'll call you Daddy."

"Deal." He leans down to kiss you again, so tender and slow you'd be scoffing if you weren't so busy melting inside. This is bullshit and you don't need to get your heart broken again but it feels good to have somebody touch you like—well, _at all_ , but especially like you matter, like you're valuable. You're going to just... let it feel nice and try not to think too hard about the future you don't have anyway.

One of his hands slips up under your shirt and his trimmed-short claws graze your back, which doesn't sound like a thing that could be soothing except it turns out it really is. You're getting the hang of kissing, your tongue tangling with his as you lean into his chest. You reach up and stroke the bottom tine of one of his fins, and he croons into your mouth.

"Lemme see you, kiddo," he says, tugging up the hem of your shirt. You shiver a little but you nod. You're going to get pailed here; you knew that when you agreed to come back to his hive. It still feels pretty unreal. You let him pull your shirt off anyway.

And hell, if he has stuff he wants, well, so do you. "Do I look good, Daddy?"

He touches the thick seam at your waist, but he says, "Yeah, sweetheart, you do. You make your Daddy proud."

_Oh_. Your fins flutter and your pump biscuit kinda does too. There's probably something else you're supposed to say back but you don't know what it is, so you just wrap your arms around him again.

He runs his hands over your skin, tracing your dorsal ridge, molding his palms over muscles, teasing the edges of your primary gills. You trill, letting your guard down more than you ought to, and if this is what it means to have a daddy—being touched like this, having someone be proud of you—then yeah, you'll take it.

"Come here, babe," he says, taking a step back, pulling you with him. He sits down on the edge of a reclining platform. "You wanna sit in Daddy's lap?"

"If you want me to," you say. "I just want you to touch me more."

Cronus laughs. "C'mon down here, then." You go, and he guides you so you're straddling his lap. "Now ask nice for what you want."

You ought to be pissed, probably, that he wants you to act that soft. But you don't have much left to lose, do you? "Hold me, Daddy," you say plaintively, leaning into him. "Please take care a me." And then, too honest, but it just slips out: "I been so lonely."

Cronus's hands tighten on your hips and he pulls you in close. "Yeah, babe, I know. But you're good now, I got you. Don't you worry your pretty face."

You drape your arms over his shoulders, tip your head back and let him at your throat. You kind of like the difference in size between you. Makes it easier to play your part. When you close your eyes and imagine him being the real Dualscar, not some coddled fake from a shitty universe, you get a shiver all the way down your spine that lands like a depth charge in your nook. Dualscar's mouth at your throat. Dualscar's hands on your scars. Dualscar telling you, hushed and gravelly as low tide, that he's proud of you. You glub involuntarily.

"Daddy's got you, kiddo, it's okay," Cronus murmurs. You're embarrassingly grateful for what amounts to a pretty lie. He tugs on your belt loops. "Take these off for me?"

Blood thunders in your aurals. "If that's what you want, Daddy." You know it is, so you don't wait for him to urge you on—you squirm, and wish them away, and then you're naked in Cronus's lap with your seedflap swelling open and your bulge half unsheathed.

"There, how's my baby doing," he says, and it's not a question really, because he kisses you again instead of giving you a chance to answer. One of his hands slides up the inside of your thigh and you're tensing in anticipation, waiting—waiting—his fingers barely brush the edge of your flap and you whimper into his mouth.

He doesn't push further, just teases there for a second and then pulls back. You cant your hips toward his retreating hand, but he's still barely touching you. You whine. He keeps it up, touching the insides of your thighs, sweet light strokes that make your nook pulse desperately. You bite at his lip, squeeze his thighs between yours, squirm as you feel yourself start to drip onto his lap. When he actually touches the soft wet inside of your flap your whole body thrums, curling in toward your center. "Fuck," you gasp, "come on!"

"That how you ask?" Cronus says, raising an eyebrow at you.

You bite your lip and think of Dualscar for a second. "Please, Daddy, I want it," you say, and your voice comes out fluting and breathy. You blush hot right out to the tines of your fins. "Need somethin up in me, _please_."

Cronus groans, his hand going instantly to fumble at his fly. "It's okay, sweetheart, I got what you need right here." You don't look down, just close your eyes again, and his bulge touches your open nook and you can't breathe. He pushes.

"Oh _god_ ," you whisper, as your nook parts and his bulge slides up inside you. Even in the first length, where you can reach with your fingers, you've never felt anything like this. Then he slips past the curve, deep enough that nobody and nothing has ever touched you there, and you keen.

"Doing so good, babe," he croons. "You make Daddy feel so good."

You glub again despite yourself, your claws tearing his shirt as you hold on. "So big," you manage. "'m so full, Daddy."

" _Fuck_." Cronus cups one hand around your nape, protective and possessive both at once, and drops the other to your lap to let your bulge lace with his fingers. It's honestly an afterthought, squeezing him—your nook has almost all your attention. Every little ripple of his bulge's movement expands through you, a spreading wave. You're so full, your body _opened_ for him, like he's reaching right into the core of you. Nobody told you it would be like this.

You ease into it, your nook learning the feel of him, your nerves learning the feel of having your deep inner walls stroked. At first you don't even recognize the shivery tension gathering between your hips. You've always been focused on your bulge before, after all. "Oh fuck," you breathe as it pulls you in tighter and you realize what's going on. You hide your face against his throat. "Daddy, I'm gonna come."

Cronus shudders against you so hard you think for a second that you just set him off. "Yeah, you like that, huh? Riding Daddy's big cock gets you going?" You can tell how filthy that is from context, even if it's more human stuff. It doesn't really matter. You can't even _move_ , you're so caught up in this right now, tense and desperate—you just tremble in his lap, filled, anchored by his bulge deep in you, and yeah maybe you're thinking about Dualscar again when the hand on your neck squeezes tight and he goes, "Come on babe, let it go, I got you," and you howl like a gale as you come, the sensation just shattering all your defenses, so much _more_ than you're used to. You can hear Cronus panting, his helpless "oh my god, oh my god" chanting, but it barely registers, just background for the goddamn _tsunami_ happening in your nook right now.

You're a soaked wreck by the time you finish, wobbly as a baby meowbeast, every muscle you got refusing to obey orders. You slump against Cronus's chest and make him hold you up. He pets your back in slow, careful strokes, like you're something precious and delicate that might disappear any second. You think he's totally forgotten about being 'Daddy,' but you don't care much. This is good, too.

"That was pretty fucking awesome, babe," he says after a few minutes. "You really like it that way, huh."

You shrug. He's still pretty deep in you, and that's weird, but you're in no hurry to get up. "Feels different than just doin bulge stuff," you say. His fin twitches, right by where you're leaning on his shoulder, and something clicks in your head. "You've never done that, have you?"

"Says who?" Cronus retorts, stiffening up under you.

"Heh. You, just now," you say. You lick his fin to show you're not trying to be an asshole or anything. You feel so weirdly good, so _comfortable_ , way more than you can account for with just 'orgasms are nice.' Maybe your dancestor isn't so bad. "So, hey."

"What." He might be trying to sulk but he's not very convincing with his bulge still seated in you.

"This Daddy thing. Does it go the other way at all?"

Cronus leans back so he can look at you, so you can see the raised eyebrow. "The other way?"

"If Daddy takes care of me," you say, "who takes care of Daddy?"

Wow, that actually makes him blush. "You volunteering?"

"That's pretty much where I was goin with that, yeah."

"Well. Uh." He looks so fucking confused, it might be kinda cute. "Strictly speaking I don't think that's really... But we can improvise? We can so improvise."

"Yeah." When all your limbs work again you are going to _blow his mind_ with how this shit feels. "We can."


End file.
